Page 5 of Aisle Be The Groom (Bristlecone Springs #1)

GRAY

“ W hat do you think?” I glanced at my son’s fiancé, then returned my attention to the road. He’d just taken the first bite of his chicken burger and moaned. My stomach twisted uncomfortably. I didn’t dare think too much about it; all signs pointed to me going senile. That was the only plausible explanation for the way Ozzie made my stomach flutter.

“Either I’m starving, or this is the best chicken burger I’ve ever had.”

I grinned, pleased that despite the unassuming look of the restaurant, he liked the food. Bristlecone Springs had always been home to me, even when I’d lived in Denver for a while. Usually, I cared very little about what anyone had to say about the town—about how small it was, the nosiness of the townspeople, the lack of entertainment, and the harsh winter months. I’d heard all the complaints from Emma and Carter. But Ozzie seemed to take it all in stride.

Him being a sport about the town only made me want to show him all the things to love about Bristlecone Springs. Sure, some people were busybodies, but they were the first to notice if something was wrong. Everyone and their mama might hit you up to support various activities, but they would throw a fundraiser for you if you had difficulties. For sure, the good outweighed the bad.

“You haven’t even tried the pie yet,” I said.

“I’m saving that for last.” Ozzie took another bite of the burger. Dammit. His moans went straight to my gut. I squirmed in my seat and picked up my drink with one hand while steering the truck with the other. Maybe a big sip would cool me down.

I took several gulps, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. It didn’t help. Had no one ever told him when he was eating, he sounded like a man who was being loved on hard? I sneaked a peek at him again. He had his eyes closed, grinding the food between his teeth. His neck moved with the motion of swallowing his food. He had a beautiful neck, thick and pale. Did he bruise easily?

Shit.

The jostle of the truck alerted me to the unevenness of the road. We’d left the town behind and were headed toward the rolling hills cradling Bristlecone Springs. Deeper into the country, where the residential homes gave way to farmland and livestock. I swerved around a deep hole sharply to avoid ruining my tires, but I gripped the cup too tightly, and the lid flew off. Soda spilled over my hand and onto my lap, with most of it getting on my shirt.

“Shit.” I pulled over to the side of the road. “You okay, Ozzie?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Just soaked. Fuck.” I was pissed at myself for getting distracted, watching Ozzie eat, for fuck’s sake. What an embarrassing way to have almost met the devil. I crashed my car from lusting after the way my son’s fiancé swallows his food.

I’d be the laughingstock of hell.

Lusting…

Good god. This was insane.

“Oops, let me help.” Ozzie dug into the paper bag the food had come in and brought out a handful of napkins. He unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over, mopping the liquid from my shirt. My heart hammered at the proximity of his face to mine as he worked with his pink tongue peeking out of the corner of his lips.

“Gosh, you’re all sticky.” He raised my shirt and dabbed at my stomach. My muscles contracted as he shoved the napkins higher and brushed my nipples, which pebbled instantly at his touch.

A groan slipped from me. I slammed the cup into the cupholder and grabbed his wrist, but not before he grazed my nipples again.

“Your shirt’s still pretty wet,” he said. “You might need to take it off. There should be more… Gray.” He gasped.

Had he felt my hard nipples? “What?” I followed his gaze. He was staring at the unmistakable bulge of my erection behind the zipper of my jeans. “Shit.” I released him, and Ozzie practically threw himself back in his seat with his neck craned to the right and stared out the window.

I shoved at my erection. My dick liked it a little too much, but what to do? No way was I going to remove my shirt after that. Better this kind of sticky than making a mess in my underwear.

“Ozzie.” I didn’t know what to say, but I had to say something. How did I explain to him what I didn’t even understand? I’d slept with other men I’d just met. But usually, because I deliberately went out already predisposed to getting laid. This… meeting an ordinary guy and springing a boner out of the blue was a first.

“It’s my fault.” Ozzie’s attempt at a laugh came out as a high squeak. “I know I’m not responsible for… that.”

“Exactly.” My chuckle was just as terrible as his fake laugh. “Had it been anyone touching me, it would have been the same. We men are wired to react that way to someone touching us.”

“Right. It’s a very natural reaction.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have known I have sensitive nipples. Why, in my earlier years, I could come just by…” Shit. Runaway mouth. TMI, Gray. “Well, you get it.”

Please let him not get shit. Why hadn’t someone invented a button you could hit and rewind the last five minutes? Just five minutes was all I needed. Was that too much to ask?

My hands shook when I put the truck in gear and resumed our drive. An uncomfortable silence saturated the cabin, getting thicker with every yard.

“Do you mind if I put the radio on?” I asked. Anything to break the nothingness between us. If he kept staring out the window like that, he would get a crick in his neck.

“Nope.”

I switched on the radio out of sheer desperation. The station I’d listened to earlier had changed to playing a different genre of pop songs that sounded too upbeat for my mood. I turned the knob again until the soft crooning of a country ballad I didn’t recognize filled the cab.

Ozzie had abandoned his food. I couldn’t blame him. I would be upset too if my almost father-in-law popped a boner at my touch. Would he tell Carter? The last thing I wanted was more tension between my son and me. Besides, nothing had happened. There was nothing to tell, right? But what if he mentioned it?

By the time we arrived at the ranch, Ozzie seemed to have forgotten about what had happened. He sat up straight, making tiny sounds in the back of his throat. His whole body was so expressive it oozed his excitement.

“I didn’t realize how big the ranch actually is,” he said.

Of course he hadn’t. The one time he’d been here, it’d been in the dead of a winter night, and a blanket of snow had covered the land.

“One of the largest in the state.” I made no attempt to temper my pride. The land was my roots, my life, my legacy. I loved every rugged inch of it from the mountains that hemmed us in to the south to the crystal-clear river that served as our northern boundary.

I pulled into the driveway and parked in front of the main house: a large, two-story rancher built from hand-hewn logs started by my great-grandfather. Over the years, we’d added to the house, expanding and modernizing it while maintaining its original form as much as possible.

“We recently added a new barn and renovated the old one to accommodate the growing number of livestock. We have an entire section dedicated to horses. Matty prefers working with the cattle and spends most of his time in the north pasture or wherever there’s a cattle drive. He should be home tomorrow, so I’ll introduce you then.”

“Is he very different from Carter?”

“Very. Carter’s more like his mother. Matty takes after me.”

“I see.”

“But you’ll like Matty. He’s a solid guy, dependable and mature. Sometimes…” I shook my head. I didn’t want to bore him with family issues. My sons were two opposite extremes. I wanted Carter to be more concerned about putting down roots and being a part of the family legacy. But Matty, sometimes I worried he thought he had to do the job of two to make up for Carter not being around.

“Let’s take your stuff inside,” I said. “Much of the work is away from the ranch house, so you’ll find only a few ranch hands around. We have mealtimes together in one of the barns. If it’s scorching hot, we set out the tables outside. I’ll introduce you to everyone some other time.”

I got out of the truck and ignored my instinct to open the door for him. Instead, I unloaded his luggage from the back.

“Let me carry one,” he said.

“It’s cool. You don’t want to lose your grip on the food.” After the debacle with the spilled drink, he’d not eaten anymore, even though he’d mentioned how hungry he was. “The next time you see Dolly Mae, she will expect a rundown of everything you tasted.”

Ozzie groaned. “I’m assuming avoiding her is out of the question?”

“In such a small town?” I chuckled, leading the way to the large porch that wrapped around the house. “You can avoid her, but only if you keep yourself confined on the ranch, and then maybe not. She’s usually here for activities.”

“Activities?”

“Hmm. We like to have events in the barn. They vary, but it’s not unheard of for the whole town to wind up here on a Friday night.”

“Wow, that I have to see.”

I opened the front door and stepped back to let him inside the house. “This week we kept free because of the show Jessamine is doing, but next week we’ll have a potluck.”

“Carter should be here then,” he said softly.

“Yeah.” Carter. Remember him? The son you want to reconcile with before his marriage? I frowned. Time to regain all sanity. “Did you want me to show you around now or later?”

“I’m actually a little tired. If it’s not too rude, I might take a nap. The plane ride and the drive sapped my energy.”

“No problem.” Maybe the ride had messed with my head. Some rest and all body parts should function as they should. “Follow me this way.”

We climbed the wooden staircase, each step releasing a faint creak under our weight. At the top, to the left, was my bedroom, and to the right lay a long corridor with rows of doors leading to the guest rooms.

“Your room is at the end of the hall. It’s quieter there,” I said.

Ozzie followed me down the corridor, where I had hung family photos and antique hunting trophies, remnants of a time before my boys decided video games were more thrilling than shooting a deer.

I cracked open the door at the end of the hall and motioned for him to enter. The room was simple but comfortable. A large window overlooked the back pastures, where a few horses were grazing peacefully. A log bed with a quilted comforter took up most of the room.

“This was Carter’s room.” I set Ozzie’s luggage down by the closet. “The bathroom is through here.” I gestured toward a door on the far side of the room.

“Carter’s room?” His eyes were wide as he glanced around the room, where little personal touches had remained, a reminder of how little time he spent here. Ozzie turned to me, his cheeks red. “I don’t want to be a bother, but maybe it’s better to have two separate rooms.”

“Whatever for?” I shrugged. “I’m not a prude, Ozzie. You and Carter have been together for almost two years. I wouldn’t put you into two separate rooms just for appearances. Unless… that’s what you want?”

Did he really expect to sleep in a separate room from my son? What did that say about their relationship?

“No, this is fine.” But he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not. Hopefully, by being here, you’ll feel even closer to Carter.”

“I’m sure I will. Thank you for everything, Gray. I appreciate you picking me up and accommodating me.”

“Don’t mention it. And, Ozzie?”

“Yes?”

“The ranch hands are all aware of my sexuality and that of my sons. They’re open-minded and nondiscriminatory. But we have ranch hands who join us on contract, and I don't know how they’ll react. If anyone crosses the line with you, let me know, and I’ll set them straight.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Same for the people of Bristlecone Springs. I won’t tolerate anyone being disrespectful toward you for as long as you’re my guest.”